Category Archives: Learning

Why are life stories important? Talking about our lives is how we learn more about ourselves, others, the world, and life.

Doing a life interview is a chance to travel through time. In the present moment, the best gift you can give someone is to listen to them. You’ll find out about the past as you hear about real-life experiences. And along the way, you may discover some timeless insights to help guide you through your own future.

We live our lives forward, but we understand them backward. In looking back, we can identify turning points or dynamic events. We can clarify and organize our thinking about life, make sense of events, and enrich the meaning of our life story.

If we make meaning as young adults by fashioning dreams, as older adults we make it by shaping memories. We see how the story of our life has turned out – then change what we can for the future and accept the rest.

Informal (simply reminiscing) or formal (an interview) offers a number of benefits for both young and old:

It creates a sense of continuity, linking past, present and future.

It enables people to find out interesting things about their family or community, as well as the broader historical past.

It’s a way to pass on family stories and traditions, and preserve family history and cultural heritage.

It builds self-esteem in those doing the telling and those doing the listening.

It helps people develop research, interviewing, & listening skills.

It gives people an opportunity to reflect on and assess their life achievements as well as disappointments.

It combats isolation & sense of loss and nurtures connections.

It helps people resolve conflicts and fears, and gives people a model for facing their own life challenges.

Easy and versatile.
It’s especially useful if you don’t have a good concept or keyword to latch on
to.

Let me get this straight…

Validates and
reflects their answer back at them. Generally prompts to elaborate on the idea.

How do you know?

Used gently and
respectfully asking about underlying knowledge can reveal what experts are
looking for.

2. Ask in a Different Way

Use a synonym:

People generally
worry about risks, so when I ask about risks I can perhaps swap in asking about
worries.

Inject a perspective:

By suggesting that
they put themselves in another person’s shoes I get new insights, and the added
bonus of promoting the value of a perspective shift.

Point to a past experience:

Putting the topic in
the context of a specific event or incident can elicit more concrete insights
and relatable stories.

3. Ask about Perpendicular Perspective

When they mention a person or group, I ask “who else?”

Since understanding
connections are important, I can use the mention of one group to trigger a
conversation about additional groups.

When they mention a process or action, I ask “what else do they do?”

Verbs offer great
hooks to explore the range of actions or behaviors. When they say that the
Editorial group reviews all
the materials, I can ask, “You said they review the materials. What else do
they do with them?”

When they mention a state or condition, I ask “how else might it be?”

Descriptors in the
real world–like “first draft” or “final”–reveal that something can be appear in
other states. So when someone says, “It comes to me as a draft,” I can ask, “Is
there also a final state or approved state?”

When they mention a timeframe, I ask “when else?”

Words like
“sometimes” or “frequently” establish a timeline. Besides asking follow-ups
like “how frequently,” I can ask about those areas not covered by the stated
time frame. When they say, “always,” I can ask, “But when is it not?”

4. Ask Them to Challenge Assumptions

Get them to quantify.

Asking them to put
their observations in real terms validates their impression and offers more
insights. “You say ‘never’ but I’d like to understand that better. How late are
they with their deliverables?”

Get them to compare. Like quantification, comparisons validate the impressions and offer more insights. “OK, how does that compare to other groups involved in the publishing process?”

Get them to slow down.

Making a
generalization covers a lot of ground. By asking them to slow down, you’re
asking them to build to their conclusion, so you understand how they got there.
“OK, let’s take a step back. Walk me through the process so I can see their
part in it.”

There are many publications that outline the techniques and principles of oral history work. The following tips about interviewing —the central technique concerned with recording oral history interviews —may serve as a helpful and concise summary.

1. Prepare for the interview by finding out about your interviewee, researching your topic or topics, testing your equipment, and organizing the questions that will help you plan what you want to cover during the interview.

2. Clearly and accurately explain to your interviewee who you are, why you want to do the interview, and what will happen to the information you collect from that person.

3. Be yourself. Don’t pretend to know more about something than you do know.

4. Never record secretly.

5. Record in a location that’s comfortable and quiet.

6. At the start of the recording, make a brief opening announcement that specifies date and place of the interview, names of the interviewer and interviewee, and the general topic of the interview.

7. Keep the audio recorder or video camera running throughout the interview. **(Unless you have assistance for easier logging later)

8. During the interview, encourage your interviewee by paying attention. Keep any time spent looking at a list of questions or adjusting the recording equipment to a minimum.

17. Be prepared to let your interviewee take the discussion off in different directions. This can sometimes lead to unexpected and exciting discoveries.

18. Make the recording as complete and accurate a record of the interview as you can. If you are using only an audio recorder, and the interviewee makes a significant gesture —ask more questions that allows the information to be captured on the recording verbally.

19. Consider using visuals during the interview such as photographs, maps, and other materials to elicit information.

20. Keep your interviews to a reasonable length. A typical length for an interview is between one and one and a half hours. It is the interviewer’s responsibility to determine if the interview should be concluded because the interviewee is becoming fatigued or for any other reason.

21. Make a brief closing announcement at the end of the interview.

22. Carefully save the recording so it can be retrieved later on. This may involve placing a copy of a digital recording on a hard drive and giving it an accession number that will allow it to be readily identified out of the other interviews made during the project.

23. Use a release form. As mentioned earlier, this will clearly establish that the interviewee has agreed to take part in the interview and allow the recording used in accordance with the stated goals of the project.

24. Carefully review the recording of the interview later on in order to analyze the data, prepare for future interviews, and improve your interviewing technique.

We all love stories, everybody knows that … but why are stories such a powerful way to influence others?

“A powerful yet subtle shift occurs when you seek to influence people to make “wise” decisions rather than the “right” ones.” –Annette Simmons

Annette Simmons – Six Kinds of Stories

To date my favorite guru on the influential power of stories is Annette Simmons. My favorite book title is “The Story Factor”. Here she recommends that if you want to use story to influence others (and who doesn’t?) … ponder these Six Kinds of Stories:

Who-I-Am Stories

As a rule, we are not influenced by those we do not trust. We need to know someone before we can really trust them … and earning our respect takes time. Who-I-Am stories illustrate a personal experience or a true story that speaks to our personality, our character, and ultimately our likeability and trust worthiness.

Why-I-Am-Here Stories

Human beings have an innate sense of fairness and reciprocity. Sure, our bottom line is “What’s in it for us?”, but we don’t bother asking until we understand ‘What’s in it for them?”. Why-I-Am-Here stories illustrate a personal experience or a true story that conveys our motivations, which ultimately reveals if our intentions are genuinely good.

Vision Stories

In theory, we all understand that life is a never ending cycle of ups and downs. But when we’re in the real world experiencing obstacles, or listening to why we should overcome for “the cause” … we are not on board unless we “SEE” the goodness of the pay back. Vision stories connect struggle to the meaningful light at the end of the tunnel.

Teaching Stories

Any teachable moment involves demonstrating various results arising from different actions. Yet to truly influence behavior one must first ask the audience’s question “WHY should I CHANGE?” Teaching stories use the power of human experience to communicate beyond end results to what makes certain actions more worthwhile.

I-Know-What-You’re-Thinking Stories

Skepticism is a natural first response to any proposed change. Understandably, because to accept something new means to sacrifice something else. I-Know-What-You’re-Thinking stories validate unspoken objections to soften fixed positions of resistance.

Values-In-Action Stories

Though “actions speak louder than words” … a story about those actions is the next best thing to being there. Values-In-Action Stories use personal experience to communicate doing the right thing (when no one was looking) … or lessons learned when a different choice was made.

You can think of them as short autobiographical sketches (slices of your life), which are factual.

You write them about singular events, which can cover anything that has happened to you.

They are meaningful to you and include your personal reactions, insights, and observations.

You write them from the first person perspective, so they use the pronouns I, me, my, mine.

Four steps in preparing to write a personal narrative include:

Brainstorm ideas and decide on an event or experience in your life about which you want to write. For example, you can use a graphic organizer to help recollect past experiences or events.

Narrow the focus of the event or experience by adding details. You can start the narrowing process for your essay by remembering as many details as you can about your entries in the brainstorming graphic organizer.

Pick one of the details on which to focus. That is, choose ONE detail about the experience or event you picked and think hard about what happened and how you felt about it.

Write down the central idea of your essay that includes both the event and why it is important to you. Use all the thoughts and feelings you wrote down in the previous step to help you focus on exactly what is (and continues to be) significant about the experience you chose.

Questions to help begin writing personal narrative:

The event or experience that I am focusing on is . . .

The details that I remember about this event are (as many as you can remember):

Some words that I would use to describe my event or experience are (for example, frightening, fulfilling, anxious, joyful):

A video script is the blueprint and foundation for your digital video. It’s a chronological run-down of scenes displaying the dialogue and action that you want to appear in your video.

Just as an architect’s blueprint is the foundation for the construction of a building, so too is the script for crafting a video. As the writer/storyteller, you are essentially the “architect” of what will be seen and heard by your audience.

Writing a script allows you to whittle down your ideas into one coherent unfolding story line of words, imagery and sounds. A video script displays the multiple layers happening as a video plays. This blueprint bridges the gap between the story idea and video editing needed to craft a digital story.

The whole reason to tell a story isn’t to hear yourself speak. It’s to create a connection between you and the listener. That’s the magic of great storytelling. And like any kind of rapport-building exercise, there’s one simple rule in play: high risk, high reward; low risk, low reward.

Basically, the higher the level of self-disclosure in the story, the deeper the connection you’re going to make with your listeners. But there’s also the risk that you might expose too much and embarrass yourself. Alternately, you might come across too strong and alienate or even offend your listeners. Becoming a good storyteller is about mastering that trade-off over time.

Ultimately, that’s a calculated risk you’re going to have to make when you tell a personal story. But I’ve broken it down into three basic levels to help you get a feel for what you’re getting yourself into:

Light disclosure involves amusing anecdotes about yourself and the world around you. Light disclosure tends to be brief, with a clearly defined beginning, middle and end. This tends to be a quick little anecdote about something funny or interesting that happened to you in the course of your daily life.

Medium disclosure gets more serious, because it involves your beliefs, opinions and ideas about the world. This is a riskier proposition, because there’s someone out there who’s bound to be affected by your thoughts and feelings. Medium disclosure is best for after you have established some degree of rapport with your listeners. You need to feel reasonably safe that, even if they don’t agree, that they won’t be looking for the nearest exit.

Heavy disclosure is, as you might guess, the riskiest and most difficult kind of storytelling. This is where you begin sharing your fears, insecurities, failures and pain points with your listeners. There’s a two-fold risk with heavy disclosure. First, you might come across as needy or validation-seeking. Second, your listeners might laugh at you rather than with you. You want to save heavy disclosure for situations where you feel very safe sharing deeply personal and painful parts of your life. You also want your storytelling ability to match the level of disclosure, which is a matter of practice.

For the most part, when you’re out at a bar, business networking event or other place where you’re meeting new people, you’ll want to stick mostly to light self-disclosure with maybe a little bit of medium self-disclosure once you’ve started to make a connection. Heavy self-disclosure is either for people you already know very well, or people that you want to become trusted confidants and companions.

Rapport is ultimately what you want to achieve when you tell a story, so don’t gloss over thinking over this part. One of the most powerful reasons to tell a story is that it allows you to connect with several people all at once. Just how much do you want to connect? A good storyteller is aware of his level of disclosure and uses it skillfully.

In real life, a problem is anything that is contrary to the way you want things to be. In a great story the problem is the central, unifying event that holds the story together. In Harry Potter, Voldemort is trying to take possession of the Wizard World. That is the problem that brings about the change of fortune and that is the problem that has to be resolved.

This and hundreds of other great stories I could name revolve around a problem that has to be resolved. And these are the central events that are holding these stories together and giving them power. And, when these problems are finally solved, it brings the story to a satisfactory conclusion and we know it is over.

The reason great stories are about problems, and what this important pattern is telling us about ourselves, is that life is all about problems. Despite their prevalence, I’m not sure that most people realize how much our lives are dominated and controlled by problems. We are bombarded daily by all sorts of big and little problems. They come at us by phone, via email and the news – everything from finding our lost keys and having nothing to wear to a stolen wallet or a flooded basement.

On top of that there are emotional problems, financial problems, health problems – threats to our lives and our well-being, threats to our families, threats to our communities, threats to our country and the world. All of the professions, in fact – doctor, lawyer, accountant, plumber, psychologist, therapist, auto mechanic, teacher, soldier, policeman, fireman, etc. are built around problem solving. They make their living solving problems for other people.

What problems do storymakers solve?

Well, great storymakers help people solve the most serious problem of all, the problem of ignorance – ignorance concerning who we really are and who we were really meant to be.

The great mission of story is to show us how to analyze, cope with, and solve the problems that stand between us and the values we are pursuing, between us and our dreams, between us and our full potential. And revealing how that problem was created and how it can be resolved is at the very heart of a great story – and at the very heart of who we are and the predicaments we face during our relatively brief visit to this sometimes scary, often delightful, but always incredible planet called Earth.

Anything you need to know about any particular problem is stored somewhere in the DNA, and the creative unconscious self can access that information. You just have to ask your self the right direct questions then play midwife to the new ideas as they come to life in your imagination.

Make your story a definitive revelation of that problem and you will make that story extremely relevant and powerful.

1. Evoke the senses, not only the narrator’s inner world

Writing a novel or story in the first person makes it tempting to let your narrator dwell on their thoughts and feelings extensively. Often characters can feel lacking if all the focus is on their mental and emotional processes, though. Have your character describe not only thoughts but also sights, sounds, smells and tastes where appropriate.

When you use a first person narrator, ask:

What senses are strongest in this particular character and what does that say about them?

How can I give the reader a greater sense of an embodied narrator and not just a disembodied, storytelling ‘I’?

Remember to ground your narrator’s observations in the material world. Because this will add colour and depth to your story.

Focusing on all aspects of your narrating ‘I’ character’s experience, physical and otherwise, is one way to write a great narrator. It is also important to let readers see through your narrator’s eyes actively:

2. Avoid overusing words that place distance between the narrator and your reader

Because the narrator uses the first person ‘I’ (and sometimes the plural ‘we’) to tell the bulk of the story in first person narration, you may be tempted to begin sentences with ‘I’ a lot. Take this sentence for example:

‘I saw that the door was closed and I heard a faint scratching noise coming from within the house. I thought it sounded like someone trying to dig a tunnel out.’

The words ‘I saw’, ‘I heard’ and ‘I thought’ all place the reader at one remove to the unfolding events. The reader isn’t seeing, hearing or thinking these things through the narrator. The reader is being told about the narrator’s experiences. The scene could be more vivid if the narrator didn’t ‘report’ her or his experience.

The snippet could be rewritten as follows:

‘The door was closed and a faint scratching noise came from within the house. It sounded like someone trying to dig a tunnel out, I thought.’